


Lights and Shadows

by CrazyM



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angela "Mercy" Ziegler is an Angel, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Worship, Crying, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fareeha Amari is a sweetheart, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Not Ashamed, Light Smut, Self-Doubt, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-30 22:47:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13961706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyM/pseuds/CrazyM
Summary: Fareeha beholds the woman in her arms and relishes each contact. She knows Angela is perfect and lets her know with each kiss, every touch."You're so beautiful." Fareeha whispers into her skin, and Angela's doubts melt away, and she knows she is loved, despite her doubts and mistakes.





	Lights and Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> PRO TIP: Listen to "Way back home" by Mako for extra feels.
> 
> I hope I have done justice to this beautiful pairing.

As soon as Fareeha enters the apartment, she hears sobs. Not the silent ones.

"Angela?" Fareeha asks, but the voice is not loud enough to reach her wife. Fareeha quickly rids herself of her bag and sets her keys down on the table. She walks to the source of the sound, the bedroom they shared and she walks in slowly, head tilted, and then she spots her wife, in the corner beside the bed. She was facing the corner, slouched and sobbing with her head in her knees.

" _Habibti?_ " She asks, and Angela whips around. Their eyes meet- hazel with teary ice blues. Angela scrambles quickly to her feet, not stopping to wipe the tears on her cheek and runs to her spouse, even though the distance was barely ten feet. Angela throws herself into the Egyptian, and Fareeha catches her, firm and gentle at the same time. Angela bursts into tears, and starts blubbering uncontrollably. Fareeha slowly kneels, cradling Angela in her arms and Angela continues to cry, burrowing herself into Fareeha's chest.

"What happened, _Habibti_?" Fareeha enquires, her voice higher than normal, worry coloring her voice.

Angela fights to regain composure but she fails anyway, and Fareeha decides now is not the time. She gently runs her hand through the luscious golden hair, pressing her lips against her head, and slowly inhaling the scent, the scent of sea that always calmed Fareeha when she was upset. She trails kisses along her head and stops at the temple, all the while Angela continued to cry. Fareeha tucked stray golden locks plastered to her face and continued to cradle her. She runs her eyes over the rest of her form and notices that Angela did not even remove her doctor's coat. Fareeha gently slips the coat off her arms and Angela does not resist, raising her arms to make removal easier. Fareeha manages to wrestle Angela out of the coat a little while later and realises with a lurch what had happened.

The coat was bloodied at the bottom, and at the sleeves. Fareeha flings it as far away as she can, like it is the most terrible thing that has ever touched her wife.

Fareeha tightens her embrace and furiously blinks away the tears licking the corners of her eyes. She digs her face into Angela's neck.

"Its my fault." Angela chokes out, and Fareeha breaks.

"No! No no no no." Fareeha mumbles, scared, and adamant in denial. It never is her fault, it never will be, and Fareeha will wrestle each of her doubts to the ground, as many times as she has to. Angela is one of the most talented doctors Fareeha has ever seen, and an even better companion, lover and confidant. They were each other's support, partners in crime in this game called life, and Fareeha will never let any doubt tarnish how deeply, shamelessly and defiantly she loves Angela. Fareeha brings her closer, trying to meld into her so that she could herself dispel every little doubt her wife had about her abilities, shoot them to the ground, and stomp on them until their existence ceases, until all that is left is sunshine, the one that Angela brings into her life, day in, day out.

"If only I had been a minute ea-"

"Never! It never has been your fault, and it never will be, _habibti_ , and don't you ever dare ever think that! You have saved people who had no chance surviving otherwise!" Fareeha tries to scold her, but she ends up choking these words out, and it somehow makes them sound even more serious, only because they sounded so defiant, so strong, and yet so weak at the same time. "You are the most beautiful person that has ever entered my life. No one is half as kind as you are, and it can never be your fault. Never!" Fareeha sobs into her neck, tears streaming down her cheeks too.

"Heroes try to save as many people as they can, but that does not mean everyone." Fareeha chants it like a prayer, feeble, monotone, reverent. She does not want Angela to speak any more words of doubt. "And if we cannot find a way to live with what we have done, we might never be able to do what we should. And then, maybe no one gets saved." Fareeha mutters into her skin.

Angela calms. She rears her head, and her eyes meet Fareeha's. Angela cups Fareeha's neck, and their foreheads meet, a kiss of its own.

"You will always be my hero." Fareeha whispers, full of reverence. "And I will always love you, no matter what. I promise." Fareeha closes her eyes.

Angela looks at the embodiment of perfection before her. The strong arms, the careful heart, the smooth caramel skin, the fiery hazel eyes, and thanks whatever power in the heavens brought them together. She breathes in her wife's earthy musk, and soon the smell of death follows on its heels. Her skin crawls, and she wants to get away from Fareeha to spare her of it. Fareeha has sensed the spasm and she makes an enquiring noise.

"I need a bath." Angela says, matter-of-factly, like she always does. Fareeha chuckles, and picks her up like she is no heavier than a pillow.

"Lets get you cleaned up then." Fareeha smiles, and their tears are forgotten. Their clothes are shed with efficiency, and Fareeha kisses the place under the jawbone, lips making contact with soft, bright skin. Fareeha slides her finger into the strap of Angela's panties and Angela twitches. She interrupts her nibbling on Fareeha's earlobe, and says breathlessly.

"I haven't shav-" She tries to breathe out but Fareeha silences her with a kiss. "Doesn't matter." Fareeha replies, and smiles into her kiss. Her finger slides further down her panties, and she removes the final piece of clothing between them, their dancing feet have already led them to the shower. Fareeha beholds the woman in her arms and relishes each contact. She knows Angela is perfect and lets her know with each kiss, every touch.

"You're so beautiful." Fareeha whispers into her skin, and Angela's doubts melt away, and she knows she is loved, despite her doubts and mistakes. 

The lovemaking is steamy, like the water pattering over their bodies. Angela has her back against the tiled wall, her legs around her lover's waist, one arm in her hair and the other on her back, moaning in approval at the worship of her body. Skin on skin, celebrating themselves, and the other. Angela lets all self consciousness go, because nothing is going to stop Fareeha from loving her. Her eyes are bright, and wet blonde hair shimmers in the light of the lamps.

Fareeha doesn't care if Angela hasn't shaved, because she loves the woman, not the body. And imperfections make Angela ever more beautiful. Because to Fareeha, perfection is like a broken vase put back together, shards of imperfections held together by the glue of character, confidence and acceptance.

And how can you not love an Angel as beautiful and kind as her?

**Author's Note:**

> Well I am still not ready to smut and I will not until I have to, because lovemaking is sacred and I wanna write it right.
> 
> Yes, there is a Civil War reference in there.
> 
> Anything wrong? Trolls and burns are welcome. Thank god this ain't Reddit.


End file.
